My sister Cindy passed away a few weeks ago. She was younger than me. Only 55.
Cindy had been living in a nursing home for the past 3 years. Slowly, she seemed to fade away. We were told that it all came down to clinical depression and PTSD from the childhood sexual abuse we both had suffered.
Cindy lost well over 100 pounds during those 3 years. She was unable to talk or walk. Unable to use the phone or computer. She had to be fed and bathed. She had bedsores.
55 years old.
I lived over 1600 miles away from Cindy and could not visit. Every week for the past couple of years, I mailed her a little note. I didn’t want to forget to send them so I put a weekly reminder on my phone. I just wanted Cindy to know that I was thinking of her and praying for her. I wanted her to know that I loved her.
I was finally able to visit my sister in September ...
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